


It's Five In The Morning (but you're warm and im tired)

by Radicalkay



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Depression, Kisses, M/M, Tour, larry - Freeform, larry stylison - Freeform, one direction - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-20
Updated: 2013-08-20
Packaged: 2017-12-24 01:54:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/933777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Radicalkay/pseuds/Radicalkay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Its amazing and wonderful and Harry doesn't want to be ungrateful but sometimes he just gets tired<br/>(or Harry gets overwhelmed and Louis comforts him)</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Five In The Morning (but you're warm and im tired)

Who’d have known-Lily Allen  
Wahha this is short and not very good????

It was five in the morning (on a day off at that) but Harry didn’t know what to do he was so restless. He hated that they all had separate rooms, he hated not knowing if the other boys were asleep because he just needed a good cuddle, he needed to know he wasn’t alone in the vast continent of America, (because he felt so very, very alone around all these strange accents and strangers places)

He knew it was his second world tour and to be honest for the most part he loved America, he really did. He could get tattoos as often as he liked, the food was good and the weather was close to perfect. The fans were crazy and dedicated and much more forward then fans in the UK (and he loved that really he did but sometimes it was tiring and he just wanted something familiar, he wanted the rain and the storms, he wished for his mates back home.)

So that’s why he was up and padding towards his door, the universal key in his hand (only for emergencies, and this was defiantly an emergency) The only person that might possible shoot him for sneaking into their room in the middle of the night and waking them up was Niall, (possibly Zayn as well, but perhaps not because Zayn just got him when he was like this)

Which was how he found himself creeping through the pitch-black room of Louis Tomlinson, stumbling over a stray bag and banging his knee on the frame of the door before feeling his way to the king sized bed.

Pulling back the covers he slipped under the blanket, curling his toes against the warmth of Louis’s thighs and pressing up against his back, hand creeping over his chest so he could secure the older boy against him. “Harry?”

Part of him should have felt at least a little guilty about waking up Louis at 5 am on a day they actually had off, but he couldn’t be dammed. He was cold, he was miserable, and he felt like he was drowning. 

Instead of answering he just hummed sadly against his friend’s back, pushing his cheek into Louis’s hair to try and escape reality, to just get away from everyone and everything by melding with the wonderful boy he’d ensnared in his arms. “’arry why’r you in m’room?” Twisting so they were nose to nose, Louis nudged him slightly, the sleep in his eyes not masking the look of concern on his face. 

Harry could count each and every one of his eyelashes, long and dark, framing his eyes like a picture. Tiny freckles you could barely see brushed on his nose, lips quirked down because Harry was sad and when Harry was sad, Louis was sad too.

“S’nothing Lou, go to sleep.” Nosing at his cheek, Harry adjusted his arms so they were fully wrapped around Louis, pulling him flush against his bare chest. Freeing a hand so he could card through Harry’s hair, the smaller boy let Harry squeeze him so hard he thought he might break, because he knew how Harry got. He was fine usually, happy-go-lucky and excited about their job, singing on stage to millions of people was their dream and Louis knew Harry wouldn’t trade it for the world. They all loved traveling, seeing places they hadn’t even begun to think about, fabricated by luck and love and people that would do anything for them, it was so god damned overwhelming.

He’s also seen Harry at his lowest, snot mixed with tears running down his cheeks, pretty green eyes swollen shut with grief because why do they all hate me Lou I don’t understand I haven’t done anything to them I haven’t.  
Why do they call me a slag I’m not Lou really

They say give the band bad publicity Louis I’m so tired and scared and a little girl told me she hated me today and that I was her least favorite why Lou I don’t understand

I cant even breathe without management telling me I’m wrong I don’t get it I hate this I hate all of it I just want to go home

Louis would just hold him, wrap his arms around Harry and let him cry, he would pepper his face with kisses because there wasn’t anything else to do. How to you console a 19 year old pop star who got big too early and has the whole media against him?

Having a group made it easier, Louis knew that. He knew they would do anything and everything to protect each other because they were family. Being thrown together was the best thing that could have happened to any of them. None of them would have made it through the sleepless nights, the screaming girls, being pushed so far they couldn’t even think. 

“One more time, from the top!” Louis didn’t know who he was, hell, he barely knew what they were doing. They hadn’t eaten since yesterday morning, somehow in the rush of rehearsals management never remembered to feed them. He was pretty sure he was going to pass out.

Niall looked miserable, face drawn and pale, movements choppy as he tried to sing as well as he could without hurting himself. “Damnit no no no STOP. Try again, come on boys you have to get this!” 

Louis tugged on the blankets, cocooning them in a little shelter against the cold for the time being, a place where no one could tell them they were wrong, or sick, or twisted. Together they flew where no one could find them.

Trembling hands wound around his cheeks, pulling him until their lips barely touched, breathing into each other like the earth and the ocean rolling together, overlapping at the seams because nothing was perfect, nothing nothing nothing.

It would start slow, a storm hovering over a field, minutes away from breaking open and letting loose a torrent of rain and hail, ecstasy and pain. Fingers clasped together, drawing close what was just out of reach, clashing lips nipping at swollen lips. Breathy promises slip out between moans ill keep you safe and ill make it not hurt anymore. 

Scrabbling hands fling whatever clothing remained into oblivion, moving completely in sync, everything familiar and perfect and completely shattered. They always came together when they hit rock bottom and playful laughs were traded in for heated kisses and rolling hips. 

Harry’s brain exploded, forcing his mouth into the pillow to muffle his cries, he reached blindly behind him to feel Louis, trembling under the tips of his fingers. Shakily turning to face him, Harry kissed him softly, stroking his slender hips as they lowered back onto the bed, Louis splayed across the other boy’s chest, tapping mindless rhythms and grinning lazily up at Harry. 

Because they both knew no matter what, no matter how low it got, they’d have each other to hold onto.


End file.
